Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Meditation, artist - August Greene. Album song August Greene, in the genre СоулDate of issue: 10.05.2018
Song language: English
Meditation |
| I met a little boy, he asked me, «Where are we now?» |
| I met a little girl, she asked me if I was proud |
| Of what I had become and what the world would allow |
| I might put up a fight, but yet I’m still losing ground |
| If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears a sound |
| Did it really ever happen at all? |
| Did it really ever happen at all? |
| I’ll tell you this: I put the work in daily, so it’s my belief, I can’t fall |
| As we go into the well of the black pool of genius, August Greene |
| Time meets worth, rhyme beats birth of a new day, born again |
| Good mornin', these beginnings never form an end |
| Crowns of righteousness not to see the thorns again |
| I argue with my aura, am I born to win or born to sin? |
| Maybe both, contribute to daily growth, oath is taken like Liam Neeson |
| Somebody take my daughter, they gon' cease from breathin' |
| They body snatchin' black girls in DC |
| Politics and propaganda on the TV |
| Distractions, distractin' us from action |
| It’s time for some, time for some passion |
| There’s a time for patience, a time for communication |
| A time for formation, a time when it’s overflow, and a time when it’s wastin' |
| They say time’s on our side like a hip replacement |
| This shine that I wear is from them times in the basement |
| A time to rebuild, a time to be ill, a time to be still, a time that we heal |
| On the mountain top, the youth from the fountain drop |
| Thoughts about being forever young, it’s like a deacon never ever sung |
| With the choir, this is praise and worship, everyday’s a circus |
| I walked the tight rope, tryna find a way to work it |
| Yeshua paid for our sins, that’s the greatest purchase |
| To keep it 100, we made imperfect |
| What I strive for is what I live for |
| Studied the lessons, now the lesson is to give more |
| And endure trials with style like Johnnie Cochran |
| I rap with a gift that can’t be boxed in, winnin' is the doctrine |
| Starin' time in the face, I guess that I’m a watchman |
| My father created time, yes I’ma watch him |
| Locked in, tryna get out of a sunken place |
| A blackness that ain’t defined by time and space |